Her Diamonds
by CrazyKatChan07
Summary: She can't take no more. He can't take her diamonds falling down. Pepperony, one-shot songfic. No bad language, implied nudity.


AN – I LOVE songfics. Songs are what make me think of ideas for stories half the time. So, when I heard this song on the radio, I immediately thought of Tony/Pepper. I wasn't sure why at first, then after reading another fic of similar idea, it hit me in the face.  
I fully intend for this to be a straight one-shot, though that is soooo hard for me. Oh, and I apologize if I jump around in verb tenses. I seem to do that…I'm so used to writing past tense stories, and I'm trying to make the jump into present tense. It's hard!  
Oh! And I will be jumping between pov's from Pepper to Tony and so on. Since the song is from the male point of view, blah blah, you get the point. I'll shut up.  
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Her Diamonds  
Song by Rob Thomas

_/oh what the hell she says  
i just cant win for losing  
and she lays back down/_

Another lonely night. Another night waiting for him to come home. For days, I've gone to bed alone and hoped to be awoken by the loud clanking and crashing downstairs in the basement. I could almost count the hours since he left and I came home to sterile nothingness.

The ceiling is the same color as ever, but it doesn't look that way. It doesn't look right without that blue glow and the tell-tale groaning breath that Tony takes occasionally in his sleep. I think it has to do with the cylinder holding his reactor and it's impeding his breathing as he sleeps on his side. Not that he listens to me about it.

How can he expect me to sleep? How could he ever expect me to sleep when he's gone for this long? Sure, I could call him, but there are times that Fury requires radio silence, including phone calls from distressed wives. Betty and I agree that that is one of the worst parts of all of this – not knowing how long, or whether they'll come back in one piece.

_/man theres so many times  
i don't know what im doing  
like i don't know now/_

I guess I did fall asleep, because I heard that crash bang woosh from downstairs, and I was straight out of bed within seconds. Nothing like a crash landing to be my wake-up call.

With help of the elevator in the bedroom, I'm downstairs in 30 seconds to the image I fully expected. There he is, looking like he's been beaten with bats for days. Sweaty, bleeding, and already with a black eye on his left side. It doesn't take long for him to notice me like I noticed him. He gives me a tired smile as he just hangs there in the hold of the robots. The suit looks like hell, especially the chest piece. It was a nice powdery black color with a dent in it. I knew that had to mean broken ribs.

"Have fun?"

He just chuckles, very apparently with some pain, but still keeps his goofy grin. There's dried blood down his face and he smells like a men's sauna, but I still love him even more now that he was back.

The 'bots drop him, slick and dripping in his black suit that he reaches up to unzip himself with a grunt of some sort. I finally get the courage to walk over towards him, even if not breathing through my mouth, and at least touch him. Yeah, he's real. He's really in front of me. As he peels the suit down to his waist, my fear is realized – his entire side is black and blue. Even when he touches it he winces.

"Tony-"

"No. I'm not going to a hospital. I'll ask Don to look at it later." He says quietly with his raspy, tired voice. "I just need to shower and sleep. I smell like a man's jockstrap."

"And I'm not interested in kissing a man's jockstrap. Come on." I grabbed one of his arms and started to pull him over to the elevator. He complied and leaned against me. The smell was strong, but his skin to mine made me forget. In that moment, I was happy I had only worn the tank top and underwear to bed.

_/by the light of the moon, she rubs her eyes  
says its funny how the night can make you blind  
i can just imagine/_

He had a little bit of a limp. Who's surprised? No one. Especially not me. He wasn't leaning on me to lean on me as a loving thing, it was more of a I-can't-walk-straight thing.

We got in the elevator, pushed the button, and he collapsed against my back so to speak. His reactor was digging into my barely covered skin, but that feeling was so commonplace in my world now. It was comforting.

"I missed you." He mumbled into my collarbone half-asleep.

How could I answer that back? I had missed him, but anger flares first. I want to scream at him for leaving me with no word and no notice of his safe return, but I know it won't get anywhere with that. Nothing will. The only thing I can think to do is reach back for one of his clammy hands and hold it in mine for a moment. His other arm finds it's way around my barely covered waist, and I can only think to myself how I'm going to have to change before I get back in bed. There's no way I'm sleeping with that smell on me somewhere. I'll smell it all night.

The elevator doors open to the dark bedroom, once lonely, now loud with the scuffling of feet as I drag him along to the bathroom. There's no way he can stand straight enough to shower on his own. Do I offer to go in with him and bathe him? Or do I just set him on the stool and hope he'll have enough strength to do it his own?

I make the passive decision to set him down on the nice wood stool in the giant shower. I need him to sit on something so I can get this suit off of him and we can get him to bed faster.

"Aah, ah…watch the ankle." Oh great. A broken ankle? My hands are already busy pulling this neoprene off of him (that I can't believe he actually wore for days – this thing really does smell like used jockstrap). It takes some pulling and yanking of hairs before he's completely nude and sitting in his shower. He was right – his ankle is also a nice shade of purple and blue. But he's too busy reveling in the feel of cold tile against his back.

_/i don't know what im supposed to do  
cause if she feels bad, then i do too  
so i just let her be/_

"Do you need me to help you bathe?"

"No, I got it, go back to bed." She doesn't have to stay up with me. It's 3 in the morning, and I'm tired, and she's tired. Go to bed, I'll be in in a minute, don't worry about me-

Even if I want to close my eyes right here against this tile and not wake up for 48 hours. The cold feels so very good, compared to that hot suit for days on end. So do her lips on my forehead and the palm of her hand soft on my cheek that hasn't felt soft in days.

"Jarvis?"

"Welcome home sir. The usual after-battle temperature?" She's already out the shower door, but through the frosted glass I can tell she's not leaving. She's sitting over on the other side of the bathroom, probably on the Jacuzzi tub I'm looking forward to spending a loooong time in tomorrow. Maybe even with her.

"Thrill me." I mumble out, and within seconds the multitude of showerheads are spray me from every direction. The lukewarm water runs all that sweat and salt down the drain. It's so invigorating, even if I can't show it outwardly. As always, my mind runs circles around my body – especially my weak and pained one now.

Why is she still sitting there? Is she worried I'll fall asleep in here? It's a good worry, because it could happen, but she needs rest. I could tell when I looked at her that she hasn't slept in days – just like me. I hate leaving her this long, but I would think the plans would keep her busy enough to not think about me. Except the plans do involve me, even if I'm just going to be standing there looking goofy while people stare at us.

I get the energy up to run my hands through my hair and over my face. Thankfully the niche is only right above my head, and I can reach my soap to start scrubbing some particularly disgusting areas. The faster I get this done, the faster I can get in bed and die.

_/and she says  
oooh  
i can't take no more  
her tears like diamonds on the floor  
and her diamonds bring me down  
cause i cant help her now/_

Just as I'm halfway through shampooing my grease trap of a head, something sounds wrong. There's a sound in the room that I'm not used to. Where is it coming from? Like, it's like…

Sobbing.

I rinse out my hair quickly before finally getting up on my feet (and leaning to one foot in particular) so I can peek out the door. And there it is.

Pepper, sitting on the side of the Jacuzzi tub, topless, and sobbing into her hands. Why? Why is she crying? Did I do something? I hadn't said anything stupid that I knew of-

Have I? I'm sleep deprived and starving. I could have said something stupid without remembering.

I have to shower quickly. This burst of energy came from nowhere, but I'm grateful. I'm scrubbed clean in record time and out the door seconds later with the shower turning off behind me. Naked, dripping wet, and worried, I wandered over to my now staring at me fiancé. At least the towel rack is on the way.

"Pep, what's wrong?" I asked quietly as I toweled myself off enough to sit down next to her on the side of the tub. Her face is splotchy and puffy with red eyes to accentuate. But she just stares at me as more tears roll down.

Do you know how awkward silences work when it comes to crying? The girl cries, the guy just tries to figure out what to do to stop her crying – and in the middle of this, she's not giving him any sort of clue as to how to do that. So, sitting is about all that happens.

How do I placate the woman who can have everything?

"I'm floating in the middle of nowhere here."

I can't tell if the louder sob is a laugh at my terrible joke, or somehow that made her cry more. I reach over and around her thin shoulders and pull her into me, my head leaning in over hers to kiss her temple quietly. I silently wish that touching heads relayed thoughts, but only in this moment.

"H-how can…you say…you're okay…?"

Is that what this is?

_/shes down in it  
she tried her best but now she cant win  
its hard to see them on the ground  
her diamonds falling down/_

Everything compounded at once. The engagement, him, and the past few days. I cracked. How could I ever have believed that this would work as well as I had hoped?

I can't even look at him. Looking at his side isn't much better, seeing as it's a nice purple color currently, but it's better than those eyes. I don't need to expose myself anymore than I already have. I want it to stop, but I can't make it stop. I can't do this anymore.

"I…I can't…I can't Tony." I mumble between sobs. He's perplexed, which isn't a great thing for him to be right now. How dense can he be? Isn't he supposed to be a genius? And he can't figure out why I'm bawling my eyes out, topless, sitting on the side of his Jacuzzi tub.

"You can't…?"

"I can't do this anymore Tony!" I yell at him finally. I look up. Bad move on my part, but if this conversation is going to happen (again, but the previous times have not involved this much emotion) it's going to happen with full participation from both parties.

"Pepper…I…what do you want me to say?"

He looks awful. Tired, weak, broken in places physically and now a little dimmed mentally too. His eyes don't have that spark they usually do when he looks at me. I want to hold him and let him sleep on me. I want to make his pain go away. I want him to stay home and go to work and come home every night like a normal businessman would.

I don't want to lose him to a bunch of men parading around in tights. I know they're doing good for the world and saving people's lives, but I'm being selfish. I'm allowed that. I'm wearing his ring; therefore I can be a little more selfish than before.

_/she sits down and stares into the distance  
and it takes all night  
and i know i could break her concentration  
but it dont feel right/_

She finally looked at me, and could see how hurt she really was. How pained she was from seeing me like this. If she hadn't said something about me being okay, I would have taken this as something much worse than it really was. I was worried it was her breaking off our engagement, destroying plans she had made for months and leaving her dress hanging in the extra bedroom closet forever. No, this was about me. About my battered body. About me leaving her here for days on end.

About Iron Man.

What do I say to her? What do I tell her? How can I sit here and look into her crying eyes and tell her I won't go out and put myself into harm's way ever again when I know I'll probably be back out there in a few weeks?

After almost two years of this, and her complaints about me putting myself in danger, and now she cracks. After all of this time she decides to break down over me. I'm sure she has before, but I never knew. How much crying has she done while I've been gone? How many tears are hidden in the mattress of my bed, or the floor of this bathroom? I had cameras, so if I wanted I could really find out, but that wasn't the point. The point was that she was hurting. And it was my fault.

I lean my head into hers, so we're nose to nose. She closes her eyes and sniffles at me. She's so cute in this moment, but I know that's not what I should be feeling. This is a moment of unhappiness. This is part of a fight I will be waging with her throughout our lives, or until Iron Man is no longer needed. Whenever that will be, if ever.

"Pepper…"

"Don't go, Tony." She whispers. She knows I'm not leaving her now. I know she means later, when I get that call from Fury or Bruce or Don or whoever decides to let me know. They want me to move to where they are. I would do it, but I wouldn't uproot Pepper like that. At least I'm the one that can fly.

My fingers find their way to the loose strands along the side of her face and try to tuck them back behind her ear. They have to be driving her nuts, but I know that's not what she's thinking about. She's thinking about how many times she's patched me up in the last few months. How many broken bones I've had over the course of Iron Man's existence. How many long nights she's kept waiting for me to come back with said broken bones. How many spats we've had about me seeking medical attention.

Looking back, it was like I was a 12 year old who's mother kept telling him that she didn't like my friends because they kept hurting me, but I liked them too much to listen to her. I kept coming back with injuries, and she kept chiding me about the company I keep. It's not completely a choice, I tell her. But she isn't listening to me, or at least I don't think she is, just like a regular 12 year old boy. Really all she cares about is my safety, but I'm more interested in having adventures.

"Come on." I whisper quietly. She needs rest. She looks like I do – she must have not slept while I was gone either. That makes two of us. I stand up and bring her along with me by pulling up on her shoulder. She complies quietly, but just stares at the ground before we start moving out of the bathroom.

I get her over to the bed and she happily lays down on it on her side and turns away from me. I sneak in a kiss to her cheek again before starting to walk back towards the bathroom. I feel terrible leaving her alone…but I need to dry off and get in bed with a little less moisture.

_/by the light of the moon, she rubs her eyes  
sits down on the bed and starts to cry  
and theres something less about her_

_and i dont know what im supposed to do  
so i sit down and i cry too  
but dont let her see/_

I can hear that she's crying again by the time I go back into the bathroom. My heart is in my stomach and it's hard to look at myself in the mirror. My wet hair is sticking to my skin like it had been when it was full of grease, and my eyes were surrounded by black circles from days of being too awake for my own good. I look like a ghost come back from the dead. Is that something that set her off? In the long mirror I can see how black and blue my ribs are. I can see little discolored bruises everywhere. There's a particularly good one on my right arm from a missile head as it tried to rocket through my hold on it. That's where the hole in my side came in. Now that I wasn't worrying about her, I could feel how those ribs felt when I took in each breath. That wasn't a feeling I was enjoying.

I ran my hands through my hair as I turned away from the mirror. I understood now. I looked like death warmed over. I could come to her in a body bag some day. It probably wasn't going to be next week, but some day I probably would come home in pieces. I got it. She didn't to lose me.

What's dripping on my face? My hair is pretty dry by now…but the mirror makes me realize. I'm crying. My eyes are red. Thoughts flash through my mind of our wedding, Pepper pregnant, our first child…and somewhere between Pepper's pregnancy and our baby being born is me coming home in pieces to a wife that can't help me. She has other things to deal with. She has a 2 month old to feed and a house to clean. She has work to delegate from our couch while breast feeding. She doesn't have time or the emotional energy to worry over my broken ribs and sprained ankle.

She doesn't have the courage to bury me when I come home dead and she's pregnant with number two.

Without me noticing I'm dry-heaving. I haven't eaten anything of sustenance in days. It's not like anything comes up.

Dry-heaving and crying? What the hell is wrong with me? Nothing, Stark, you're human. You're going to force the woman you love to be pushed aside by a hobby that's going to kill you some day. And she's the one that's going to have to pick up the pieces.

I force myself to stop. I'm almost out of my energy burst. I'm surprised I'm still standing here. I think I'm dry enough to crawl in bed. She needs me more than I need to stare at myself any longer. It'll just make me think more and more about future events that I have to keep from happening. I'm the only one that can do that. I have to make sure I don't come home to her crying anymore.

_/she shuts out the night  
tries to close her eyes  
if she can find daylight  
then she'll be alright  
she'll be alright  
just not tonight/_

I know he's in the other room, but I can't stop crying anyway. The stress of not knowing whether or not he'll be okay just set me off. He could have internal bleeding for all he knows! And he's not interested in ever going to the doctor. What if I wake up in the morning and find him dead beside me? What will I do then?

The bathroom light is off, and within moments I have that cold ring of metal on my back and those strong arms around my waist. My eyes dried a little, but I also could feel him shift. He's laying on his bad side.

I won't make him lay on his cracked ribs. I need to put another shirt on anyway. I get up from the sheets, not without him grabbing at my skin and begging me not leave. I think he's frightened that I'm going to leave him alone in the bed, but I'm quick to grab one of his tanks laying just inside the closet door and pull it on. I'm back in bed within minutes, but I crawl in behind him instead and pull on his shoulder to get him to turn over. I don't want him injuring himself more just for me. He can't be comfortable laying on his side like that.

He turns over and tries to say something, but I'm quick to silence him with a kiss. There's nothing he can say to me to make me happier. The pain I feel is just a touch of the pain I will feel later, but it's fleeting. In the morning, we will be fine. Nothing will change. He'll still be Anthony Stark, and I'll still be planning our wedding in 4 months. I still haven't decided on the cake, and that's something we needed to do in the next few days now that I have him captive.

That's right, think of the wedding. Think of the things you have to do. It'll keep your mind from him laying here bored and ripping apart things he can get his hands on. Maybe I can force him to look at flowers now too.

I'm still crying. Why? At least the sounds have stopped, but the tears haven't. His arms are around me and all I can smell is his body wash and that familiar skin smell that's purely masculine and all him. It's so much more comforting than hoping to find those scent pockets in his pillow.

I can tell quickly that his breathing is leveling and he's gone from the world. I should join him, I know, but there's so much to think about. And it's hard to not think of him battered, injured, labored in his breathing even in his sleep…

Zzzz.

_/ooh  
i cant take no more  
her tears like diamonds on the floor  
but her diamonds bring me down  
cause I cant help her now  
shes down in it  
she tried her best now she cant win  
its hard to see them on the ground  
her diamonds falling down_

_I can't take her diamonds falling down./_

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

AN – I can only hope I did good at keeping to one verb tense. And yes, I know, I jumped in the lyrics. But come on, he does the chorus about like, 6 times. I don't need it that much. As always, reviews appreciated and constructive criticism welcome =3


End file.
